by Carian Cole
“It’s the right thing to do,” I reply, sitting on the chest at the foot of my bed to pull on my sneakers.
“I think it’s a dumb thing to do.”
“He loves Acorn. He deserves a chance to say goodbye.”
“He dumped him. That was his goodbye.”
“Will you stop, please?” I ask, rising to my feet. “This is hard enough on me already. I don’t want to see him, Josh. It’s going to open up all the old wounds again. I know that. But I also know how much Acorn means to him. I don’t expect you to understand it. People deserve closure, and so do animals.”
He shakes his head. “I think you’re being way too nice.”
“Well, that’s me.”
“Let me go with you, then, and have Ditra come here and stay with Lyric. If I go with you at least you won’t end up in bed with him. I won’t even go in, I’ll wait in the car for you.”
I glare at him. “I can’t believe you just said that to me. And Lyric asked for you to stay with her tonight while I did this. She wants you to tell her the rainbow bridge story again. Ditra doesn’t know anything about that.”
“I said it as your friend, Piper. Not as someone who’s interested in dating you. Blue makes you do dumb things.”
His comments hurt regardless of how he meant them. “As my friend and someone who supposedly wants to date me, I’m offended that you don’t think I’m capable of not sleeping with him without you babysitting me.”
His shoulder lifts in a shrug. “Are you?”
I hope so.
“Yes,” I reply. “Now please stop this.”
He follows me out to the living room where Lyric is sitting on the floor with Acorn reading a book to him. My heart shatters in a million pieces.
“Okay, sweetheart. It’s time for me and Acorn to go for a drive to the special place,” I say in as upbeat a tone as I can.
“To the bridge?” she asks.
“Yes.” To an imaginary bridge that takes pets up to heaven that I want to believe in just as much as Lyric does.
I do my best to hold back tears and keep this experience positive for Lyric, like I read about on a website for how to help children with losing a pet or family member for the first time. It’s not easy when I’m overcome with grief myself.
After Lyric says her sweet and heartbreaking goodbye, Josh helps me put Acorn into the back seat of my car, gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then I’m driving across town, tempted to turn around at every red light. I wish I really was driving Acorn to a special bridge somewhere serene and pretty with rainbows in the clouds and not to a sterile veterinarian’s office. I keep glancing at him in the rearview mirror, singing happy songs to him, and he meets my eyes in the mirror. His eyes have lost their spark. He is bone thin and looks exhausted. I know I’m doing the right thing for him, even though it feels awful.
The vet scheduled me for the last appointment of the night, so we wouldn’t feel rushed. I pull into a parking spot and reluctantly get out of my car and open the door to the back seat. The slam of another car across the parking lot vaguely catches my attention as I lean in to lift Acorn, and when I turn around the unmistakable figure of Blue, his familiar gait, hair blowing in the wind, comes toward me across the dark lot.
Wordlessly, he takes the dog from my arms and holds him against his chest, bending his face down to kiss the top of Acorn’s head. Acorn immediately perks up, tail wagging, and licks Blue’s face.
I can’t watch this reunion. I can’t watch Acorn summon up energy to love on Blue when we’re going to be ending his life just minutes from now. Turning away, I close the car door, wishing I could also shut out the sound of Blue talking softly and Acorn’s happy whimpers.
“Piper...”
I refuse to turn around. I don’t want him to see me crying, and I don’t want him to see I still care about him.
“Piper, look at me.”
I turn, but avoid making any eye contact with him. “Let’s go inside,” I say, reaching out to touch Acorn’s back. “You can sit with him for a little while.”
He follows me inside, and the receptionist takes us to a private room, advising us to press a button on the wall when we’re ready for the doctor to come in. There’s no exam table in this room, just two large leather chairs that match the ones in the waiting room, a big soft dog bed on the floor, dim lighting, and an electric candle lit on a small table in the corner. I can’t help but wonder how many sweet furry souls say goodbye in this room.
Blue gently sets Acorn on the bed and sits cross-legged on the floor next to him.
“He looks so old,” he says, shaking his head slowly in disbelief.
I sit on the other side of Acorn and we pet him together. He’s breathing heavier now, and his eyes have closed. “He is old.”
“Can I tell you something?”
Nodding, I grab a box of tissues from the table and put it in front of us.
“I found him when he was a little tiny puppy. I was walking around in the woods, getting high, and there he was. All alone.”
“Wait... I thought when I met you, you told me you had him for two years?”
“I said we’d been traveling for two years.”
That was so long ago I can’t remember the exact words he used. All this time I thought he found Acorn as an adult dog while he was walking from state to state.
“I took him home with me and my dad had a shit fit. We were already on bad terms cuz I was such a fuckup, and the last thing he wanted was an animal in the house. He told me to get rid of the puppy or get the hell out of his house. I refused to give up the dog so he kicked me out. I had nowhere to go, so I took the puppy to the shed in our backyard. It was freezing, and I was hungry, and I begged my father to let us come in and he fuckin’ refused. Even with my mom begging him to let me in. I ended up living in the shed with Acorn for six months until I moved in with a friend. I didn’t even have a job so I couldn’t afford to buy him real dog food or toys, so I just fed him what I was eating and gave him an old sock to play with.” A tear slides down his cheek as he strokes Acorn’s ears. “He was such a cool little dog. He never barked or chewed anything up. He seemed happy just hanging out with me, and he loved when I played guitar and sang. He’d sit and watch me for hours when I played, and he’d fall asleep with his head on my leg and I’d keep singing and playing. He was the first real friend I ever had.” He wipes his hand across his cheek. “And you told me he was Lyric’s first best friend, too. I kinda feel like he’s this little guardian that came into my life to take care of me and the two people I love.”
Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I reach across the pillow and touch his hand. “I think you’re right,” I say softly.
“Do you think he forgives me? For leaving him?” His voice is strained with emotion.
I nod slowly. “I know he does. I don’t think he ever thought you left, Blue. I think he knew you lent him to us.”
Tears fall from his cheek and onto Acorn’s fur. “I hope so,” he whispers.
I watch as he says goodbye to his dog, and I can’t help but wonder if him staying in the shed with Acorn when he was just a teenager messed him up and that’s why he repeated it later when he was older.
After we’ve said our goodbyes, we stay with Acorn until the very end, and the vet leaves us alone for a few more minutes. Blue immediately pulls me into his arms, and we cry together, burying the hatchet to cling to each other in grief. When it’s time to leave, we walk out into the parking lot, silent and emotionally drained. He walks me to my car, lights up a cigarette, and stares up into the star-speckled black sky.
“That was officially one of the worst moments of my life,” he says. “And I’ve had a lot.”
I lean against the back of my car and breathe in the cool air. A deep pain has settled in my chest and in the pit of my stomach.
“Thank you for letting me be here. It feels right.” He exhales a plume of smoke. “That we did it together.”
“I thin
k so, too.”
He puts out his cigarette on the bottom of his boot and shoves the butt in his back pocket, just like he used to do.
Some things never change.
Shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, he steps closer to me and I can feel him looking me up and down.
“What’s made you so distant, Ladybug?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You did.”
He steps closer. Too close.
“That means I can undo it.”
I refuse to look up at him. I’m not going to fall into the hypnotic trap of his dark eyes again. I know my weaknesses when it comes to him. It may have taken me years, but I’m smarter now.
“You can’t,” I reply.
He bends his head down close to mine. “Wanna bet?” he whispers next to my ear.
I smack my hand into his chest. “Stop it.”
He sighs and rocks on his heels. “I’m only here for one night. Tomorrow afternoon I fly back out.”
“So?”
“So let’s not waste it. I haven’t seen you in fuckin’ years.”
“That’s your own fault. You wrecked everything. I’m not letting you do it again.”
He reaches out and touches my face. “I miss you, Piper. We just went through something horrible together. Don’t you feel the same? Don’t you want to spend time with me?”
“I do, Blue. But I also value my sanity now.”
He continues to caress my cheek. “Sanity is overrated, baby.”
He kisses my forehead. Then the tip of my nose. And then, my lips.
We kiss soft and slow, tasting each other, remembering each other. His tongue dances over mine, hints of metal and smoke fill my mouth. He has always been my favorite flavor. Grasping my waist, he lifts me up onto the trunk of my car and moves between my legs, not breaking our kiss. I wrap my thighs around him, my arms around his neck, and welcome the hardness of his body against mine. He’s like riding a bicycle, the balance, movement, and fit is instantly perfect and familiar.
After a few minutes I pull away for air and press my lips against his chest exposed by the V-neck of his shirt. “Why can’t I forget you?” I whisper more to myself than to him. “I don’t want to want you anymore.”
He threads his fingers through my hair, pushing it back from my face and tilting my head up to his. “Come back to my room with me.”
My thighs tighten around him, contradicting the words I’m going to say.
“I can’t do that.”
He moves his body against mine, and I can feel every inch of him—hard and hot and tantalizing—between my thighs. My body quivers and heats in response, wanting him closer, with nothing between us.
“We don’t have to do anything. Just let me hold you. I want to fall asleep with you like we used to. I’m so tired, Piper.”
Closing my eyes, I rest my cheek against his chest and listen to the soft thump of his heart. I can’t go with him. I have to go home to Lyric, and to Josh. Isn’t that where I belong now?
“I can’t, Blue.”
His muscular arms encircle me like a vice. “Don’t leave. I’m gonna fall apart without you tonight. I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want you to be, either.”
“I have to go home to Lyric. This has been really hard on her, too.”
“I know.” He leans his head against mine. “I know it has. Can I come with you?”
My stomach jumps into my throat at the thought. “No. Blue, I—”
“You don’t have to tell her who I am. Tell her I’m an old friend.”
Lyric is definitely smart enough to know I wouldn’t be running into an old friend at the vet’s office and bringing him home with me.
“That’s not a good idea.”
He pulls away and stares down at me, his eyes transitioning to a darker, midnight velvet blue.
“You told me you bought a house. You don’t want me there, do you?” he asks. “Why?”
I chew the inside of my cheek, trying to find the right words, but there are none. “Josh is there with Lyric. He’s waiting for me.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Josh your roommate? You still live together?”
“No, we moved out of his house.”
His eyes narrow as understanding trickles in. “So something’s going on with him now?”
“I don’t know,” I say softly. “But there might be.”
His chest expands, and he backs away, turns in a circle and then looks back at me. “My fucking dog just died. He’s in a freezer right now, Piper. And you’re telling me you still want me, but there’s someone else? You’re letting him come between us?”
“He was my dog, too,” I remind him. “And you have no right to do this to me. I gave you so many chances, Blue. I gave you my heart a million times, and every single time you broke it. You always let me down. You let drugs and alcohol come between us and destroy your life. At least Josh is a person.”
He scoffs. “I’ve never let a person come between us. That’s way worse.”
My heart twists and sinks like an anchor. “You told me there’s never been anyone else.”
He whips out a Zippo lighter and snaps it open to light another cigarette. “I said that years ago.”
I jump down from the trunk of my car. “So, you’ve been with other women?”
That really shouldn’t surprise me at all. I couldn’t expect him to stay single and celibate forever, especially when I told him I never wanted to see him again. Of course he moved on, just as he should have. Just like I should have. I have no right to feel jealous or betrayed in any way at all.
But I do. Terribly so.
“I’m going home,” I say, not waiting for him to answer. “We’re both upset about losing Acorn and if we keep talking, we’re just going to hurt each other.”
With a hard stare, he takes a long drag on his cigarette. “Yeah. Apparently so.”
I walk around the car to the driver’s side door, and he talks to my back. “I’ve been clean for six months. Can’t you tell I’m better?”
When we talked on the phone the other day I could tell something was different, but I thought it was just the shock of me calling him and telling him about Acorn that had subdued him.
Standing in front of my door, I turn to him with my car keys in my hand. “I’m glad, Blue. But it doesn’t change anything else.”
His hair flies around his shoulders as he shakes his head. “You’re wrong, Piper. It changes everything.”
I unlock my door, listening to his boots on the pavement walking in the other direction. “We’re not over, Ladybug,” he calls over his shoulder.
I sit in my car for a long time, crying for the dog I’m not going home with and regretting how Blue and I are leaving things. Once again we’ve left each other in limbo, with no closure, no parting on good terms, no understanding of where we stand. I don’t know how to find any kind of peace with him and move forward.
Suddenly my car door is thrown open and I jump and yelp in surprise.
“Get out of the car.”
My chest heaves up and down with fear as I look up at him leaning one arm on the top of my car and the other on the top of my window.
I let out a breath of relief that it’s him and not a lunatic carjacking me.
“Please, Blue, just go away.”
“No. We’re not doing this again. This is the kind of shit that sends me straight into a bottle or makes me snort lines all night and I’m not doing it. I’m not waiting another two or three fucking years to talk to you again, either. Get out of the car or I’m coming in there. Your choice. And don’t forget how much I love car sex.”
“Blue—”
He grabs my arm and tugs me out of the car. I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “Why are you acting like this?” I demand. “I have to go home.”
“Because I want to talk to you. You wouldn’t talk to me on the phone, and you refuse to come with me to talk in private. So now we’re going to talk h
ere in the middle of this fucking parking lot because I’m not leaving without talking to you.”
“Okay.” His demanding attitude has my interest piqued, and my inner romance fan is swooning and begging for more.
“The past six months have been really hard, Piper. Withdrawals, crazy mood swings, feeling sick all the time. I wanted to freakin’ crawl out of my own skin. I got through it, though, and you want to know how?”
I nod. “Yes. Tell me.”
“Thinking about you and Lyric. You’re what got me through.”
“I don’t—”
“I want you back. And I want to meet my daughter. I’m thirty-four, Piper. Thirty fucking four. I’ve fucked up a ton of shit. I’ve lost literally years of my life being high or running away from something that I can’t even see or explain. I don’t want to do it anymore. I want you, and my kid, and my band.” He grabs my hand. “I wanted my dog too, but I’m too late. I won’t be too late for you and Lyric.”
“Evan....”
“I’m not kidding, Piper. This is all I’ve been thinking about since you told me to fuck off years ago.”
I feel incredibly small and vulnerable all of a sudden. Stripped of all the strength I’ve built up over the years and attempted to enforce tonight. His words have gutted me, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m already broken over losing Acorn, or if the exhaustion of wishing and hoping for Blue to get to this place for so long has finally taken its toll.
I should be jumping up and down with excitement. Or telling him no; it’s too late for us. But instead I feel numb and unable to feel much of anything. It’s as if a thousand bees have taken up residence inside me and are buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, drowning out everything and making my entire body tremor with an odd, unfamiliar energy.
He squeezes my hand. “Say something.”
“I’m not sure what to say.”
A car door opening and closing, then an engine starting sounds behind us, and a few seconds later the car’s headlights shine on us as it pulls out of the parking lot. A quick glance reveals it’s Dr. Simon leaving—the doctor who slid a thin needle into my dog’s fragile vein and then promised they would handle him with love and care until his remains were ready for me to pick up in a mahogany urn Blue and I picked out.